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Copyright, 

A. Williams & Co., Boston, 

1875. 



**JF0r E^^ grantieur fs all tcntjerness, 
^11 motfjer^lifee anti meek; 
STj^e 5 carts tl^at to ill not rome ia it, 
J^umblmg Itself U scefe." 




''LET NOT YOUR HEART BE TROUBLED." 



S 



OULS of men, why will ye scatter 
Like a crowd of frightened sheep? — 
Foolish hearts ! Why will ye wander 
From a love so true and deep ? — 

Was there ever kindest shepherd 
Half so gentle, half so sweet, 

As the Saviour who would have us 
Come and gather round His feet? — 

It is God : His love looks mighty, 
But is mightier than it seems ! 

'Tis our Father ; and His fondness 
Goes far out beyond our dreams. 



LET NOT YOUR HEART BE TROUBLED:^ 

There's a wideness in God's mercy. 
Like the wideness of the sea ; 

There's a kindness in His justice 
Which is more than liberty. 

There is no place where earth's sorrows 
Are more felt than up in heaven ; 

There is no place where earth's failings 
Have such kindly judgment given. 

For the love of God is broader 

Than the measures of man's mind ; 

And the Heart of the Eternal 
Is most wonderfully kind.'* 



i± 



"AS THOU WILT." 

■T is so sweet to live 
•^ My little life to-day, " 
That I would never leave it, if 
I might forever stay ! — 
I sometimes say. 

I am so weary, Lord, 

I would lie down for aye, 
Could I but hear Thee speak the word 

" Thy sins are washed away ! " — 
I sometimes say. 

(5) 



''AS THOU wilt:' 

The better mood that lies 

These moods between midway, 

Comes softly, and I lift my eyes : 
" Lord, as Thou wilt ! " I pray ; 
And would alway." 



(6) 



EXTRACT FROM ''ST. MATTHEW'S DAY." 

THERE are in this loud stunning tide 
Of human care and crime, 
With whom the melodies abide 

Of the everlasting chime ; 
Who carry music in their heart 

Through dusky lane and wrangling mart, 
Plying their daily toil with busier feet, 
Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat.' 



(7; 



O JESU, THOU ART STANDING. 

" Behold I stand at the door and knock." 



G 



H Jesu, Thou art standing 
Outside the fast-closed door, 
In lowly patience waiting 

To pass the threshold o'er : 
We bear the name of Christians, 

His name and sign we bear : 

O shame, thrice shame upon us, 

To keep Him standing there. 

Jesu, Thou art pleading 
In accents meek and low, 

1 died for you, My children, 
And will ye treat Me so? 

O Lord, with shame and sorrow 

We open now the door : 
Dear Saviour, enter, enter, 

And leave us nevermore." 

(8) 



NEUMARCK'S HYMN. 1635. 

''■ ♦ EAVE God to order all thy ways, 
^ And trust in Him whate'er betide 

Thou'lt find Him in the evil days 

An all-sufficient strength and guide. 
Who trusts in God's unchanscinc: love 
Builds on a rock that naught can move. 

Only your restless heart keep still 
And wait in cheerful hope, content 

To take whate'er His gracious will, 
His all-discerning love, have sent. 

Nor doubt our inmost wants are known 

To Him who chose us for His own. 



(9) 



NEUMARCICS HYMN. 

He knows when joyful hours are best ; 

He sends them when He sees it meet ; 
When thou hast borne the fiery test, 

And now art freed from all deceit, 
He comes to thee all unaware, 
And makes thee own His loving care. 

Sing, pray, and swerve not from His ways, 
But do thine own part faithfully. 

Trust His rich promises of grace, 
So shall it be fulfilled in thee. 

God never yet forsook at need 

The soul that trusted Him indeed." 



;ic) 



THE GOD OF MY CHILDHOOD. 

'¥ 4' M^ let me speak to Thee, dear God! 
^^^ Of those old mercies past, 
O'er which new mercies day by day 
Such lengthening shadows cast. 

They bade me call Thee Father, Lord ! 

Sweet was the freedom deemed, 
And yet more like a mother's ways 

Thy quiet mercies seemed. 

At school Thou wcrt a kindly face 

Which I could almost see ; 
But home and holiday appeared 

Somehow more full of Thee. 



THE GOD OF MY CHILDHOOD. 

And to home Sundays long since passed 
How strangely memory clings ; 

For then my mother told of Thee 
Such sweet, such wondrous things. 

I lived two lives which seemed distinct 

Yet which did intertv/ine ; 
One was my mother's — it is gone — 

The other, Lord ! was Thine. 



Thou broadenest out with every year 
Each breadth of life to meet ; 

I scarce can think Thou art the same 
Thou art so much more sweet. 

Father! what hast Thou grown to now? 

A joy all joys above, 
Something more sacred than a fear, 

More tender than a love ! 

(12) 



THE GOD OF MV CHILDHOOD, 

With gentle swiftness lead me on, 
Dear God ! to see Thy face ; 

And meanwhile in my narrow heart 
O make Thyself more space! " 



(X3) 



THE MAN OF MACEDONIA. 

Acts xvi. C— lo. 

*W ♦J FOR a vision and a voice to lead me, 

^^^ To show mc plainly where my work 

should lie ! 

Look where I may, fresh hindrances impede me; 

Vain and unanswered seems my earnest cry. 

Hush, unbelieving one! But for thy blindness, 
But for thine own impatience and self-will. 

Thou wouldest see thy Master's loving-kindness. 
Who by those "hindrances" is leading still. 

He who of old through Phrygia and Galatia, 
Led the Apostle Paul, and blessed him there, 

If He forbid to "preach the Word in Asia," 
Must have prepared for thee a work elsewhere. 

(14) 



THE MAN OF MACEDONIA. 

Courage and patience! Is the Master sleeping? 

Has He no plan, no purposes, of Love ? 
What though awhile His counsel He is keeping? 

It is maturing in the world above. 

Wait on the Lord ! In His right hand be hidden. 
And go not forth in haste to strive alone : 

Shun, like a sin, the tempting work ' forbidden : ' 
God's love for souls be sure, exceeds thine own. 

The Master cares ! Why feel, or seem, so lonely ? 

Nothing can interrupt real work for God : 
Work may be changed ; it cannot cease, if only 

We are resolved to cleave unto the Lord. 

None are good works, for thee, but works 
appointed : 

Ask to be filled with knowledge of His will. 
Cost what it may! Why live a life disjointed? 

One work throughout! God's pleasure to fulfill! 



THE MAN OF MACEDONIA. 

But if indeed some special work awaits thee, 
Canst thou afford this waiting-time to lose ? 

By each successive task, God educates thee ; 
What if the iron be too bkmt to use ? 

Can walls be builded with untempered mortar? 

Or fish be caught in the unmended snare ? 
Must not the metal pass through fire and water, 

If for the battle-field it would prepare ? 

O thou unpolished shaft ! why leave the quiver ? 

O thou blunt axe what forest canst thou hew ? 
Unsharpened sword! Canst thou the oppressed 
deliver ? 

Go back to thine own Maker's forge anew ! 

Submit thyself to God for preparation : 

Seek not to teach thy Master and thy Lord ! 

Call it not "zeal!" It is a base temptation: 
Satan is pleased, when man dictates to God. 

(16) 



THE xMAN OF MACEDONIA. 

Down with thy pride ! With holy vengeance 
trample 

On each self-flattering fancy that appears ! 
Did not the Lord Himself, for our example, 

Lie hid in Nazareth for thirty years ? 

Wait the appointed time for work appointed, 
Lest by the Tempter's wiles thou be ensnared ! 

Fresh be the oil wherewith thou art anointed ! 
Let God prepare thee for the work prepared !" 



(17) 



< M a. 

T 



THE STARRY SKIES. 

HE starry skies, they rest my soul. 
Its chains of care unbind. 
And with the dew of cooling thoughts 
Refresh my sultry mind. 

And, Hke a bird amidst the boughs, 

I rest, and sing, and rest, 
Among those bright dissevered worlds 

As safe as in a nest. 

And oft I think the starry sprays 
Swing with me where I light. 

While brighter branches lure me o'er 
New gulfs of purple night. 



h 



THE STARRY SKIES. 

Yes, something draws me upward there, 
As morning draws the lark ; 

Only my spell, whate'er it is, 
Works better in the dark. 

It is as if a home was there, — 
To which my soul was turning, 

A home not seen, but nightly proved 
By a mysterious yearning. 

So as if waiting for a voice, 

Nightly I gaze and sigh. 
While the stars look at me silently 

Out of their silent sky. 

How have I erred ! God is my home, 

And God Himself is here ; 
Why have I looked so far for Him 

Who is nowhere but near? 



\ 



THE STARRY SKIES. 

Our souls go too much out of self 
Into ways dark and dim ; 

'Tis rather God who seeks for us. 
Than we who seek for Him" 



{20 



THE MEMORY OF THE DEAD. 

QH, it is sweet to think 
Of those that are departed, 
While murmured Aves sink 
To silence tender-hearted, 
While tears that have no jDain 

Are tranquilly distilling, 
And the dead live again 

In hearts that love is filling. 

Yet not as in the days 

Of earthly ties we love them ; 
For they are touched with rays 

From light that is above them ; 
Another sweetness shines 

Around their well-known features 
God with His glory signs 

His dearly ransomed creatures. 

(21), 



THE MEMORY OF THE DEAD. 

Yes, they are more our own 

Since now they are God's only ; 
And each one that has gone 

Has left our hearts less lonely. 
He mourns not seasons fled, 

Who now in Him possesses 
Treasures of many dead, 

In their dear Lord's caresses. 

Dear dead ! they have become 

Like guardian angels to us ; 
And distant heaven, like home, 

Through them begins to woo us ; 
Love that was earthly, wings 

Its flight to holier places ; 
The dead are sacred thing-s. 

That multiply our graces. 



(22) 



THE MEMORY OF THE DEAD. 

They whom we loved on earth 

Attract us now to heaven ; 
Who shared our grief and mirth 

Back to us now are given. 
They move with noiseless foot 

Gravely and sweetly round us, 
And their soft touch hath cut 

Full many a chain that bound us. 

O dearest dead ! to Heaven 

With grudging sighs we gave you, 
To Him ! be doubts forgiven ! 

Who took you there to save you! 
Now get us grace to love 

Your memories yet more kindly, 
Pine for our homes above, 

And trust to God more blindly." 



(23) 



FRESH SPRINGS. 

All my Fresh Springs shall be in Thee. — Ps. Ixxxvii. 7. 
'Prayer Book Version.) 

WHY is the world so thirsty, 
So restless, ill at ease. 
So careworn with its pleasures, 
So difficult to please ? 
Because the truth it cannot see, 
That all " Fresh Springs " must be in Thee ! 



Why is Thy Church so weary ? 

Why does Thy cherished Bride 

Appear so sad and lonely, 

So far from "satisfied"? 
What once she knew, she fails to see, 
That all her "Fresh Springs" are in Thee! 

(24) 



FRESH SPRIIVCS. 

Why needs she so much urging 

To work, and love, and feel? 

Why craves she fresh excitement, 

To stimulate her zeal ? 
She cannot, or she will not, see 
That all "Fresh Springs" must be in Thee! 

Too true it is ! On every side 
We look in vain for Christ's true Bride ! 
We hardly recognize her, now, 
So faint the glory on her brow! 
She lives an outside life, — not void 
Of talents usefully employed, — 
The tilted vessel overflows, 
But day by day more empty grows ; 
Too seldom is it filled, with care, 
By meditation and by prayer, 
For Christ's own Bride — how strange to own I 
Is seldom with her Lord; alone ! 
(25) 



FRESH SPRINGS. 

Is it not strange ? With what surprise 

Must it be seen by Angel eyes ! 

But that my own deceitful heart 

In all these scenes has borne a part, 

The sad reality would seem 

The groundless terror of a dream ! 

I should have thought that she would prize 
The mute appeal of those kind eyes, 
The incommunicable things 
Which Jesus Christ's own presence brings, 
The sight of the Incarnate Son, 
Unseen, yet fondly gazed upon, 
Thfe speaking silence in Him found, 
The wordless voice, " 'Tis holy ground:" 



Yes, verily, I should have thought, 
Unless by sad experience taught, 
That such exceeding tenderness, 

(26) 



FRESH SPRINGS. 

Such all-surpassing loveliness, 
Once seen and tasted, had sufficed 
To make her lose herself in Christ ! 

I should have thought that one so blest 
Would never care to leave her nest, 
Unless, on wings of love, to fly, 
Led by the glances of His eye. 
And, keeping Him in sight, fulfill 
Some fresh expression of His will. 
Then, home returning at His call. 
Come straight to Him, and tell Him all. 
Confess her failures, on His breast, 
Give Him the glory of the rest. 

And then, with loving heart and true. 
Ask what He next would have her do; 
The passion of her heart fulfilled, 
If all be done as He hath willed : — 

(27) 



FRESH SPRhVGS. 

His thoughts, the standard of her own, 
His will, life's sweetest undertone. 
No work of love too great, or small, 
To undertake at His dear call ! 



I should have thought the favored Bride 

Would cling for ever to His side. 

And need no pressure of alarm. 

To make her lean upon His arm ; 

No sudden or extreme distress, 

To prove His glorious Faithfulness ; 

Nor failure of all earthly things, 

To drive her to the heavenly Springs. 

I should have thought she would not care 

For any joy He did not share. 

Nor any earthly object prize, 

If Jesus did not sympathize ; 

Nor let herself be " greatly moved " 



FRESH SPRIN-GS. 

By human blame, if He approved ; 

Nor have a single plan apart 

From Him, the Sovereign of her heart ; 

But hang upon His every word. 

And treasure up each accent heard. 

Each tone of love, each — less than tone, 

Each look of love that said : " Mine own 

And never, never turn away 

From so much love, and coldly say : 

"I have not time for Thee, to-day!" 

O Jesus ! Wondrous, loving Lord 1 
Untired still ! Be Thou adored ! 
Thy patience with Thy fickle Bride 
May well attract her to Thy side ! 
O that she may Thy whisper hear, 
" Return ! Return ! For I am near ! " 
And ever henceforth taste and see 
That all her Fresh Springs are in Thee ! 
(29) 



T 



THE THOUGHT OF GOD. 

HE thought of God, the thought of 
Thee, 
Who Hest in my heart, 
And yet beyond imagined space 
Outstretched and present art, — 

The thought of Thee, above, below. 

Around me and within. 
Is more to me than health and wealth, 

Or love of kith and kin. 

The thought of God is like the tree 

Beneath whose shade I lie, 
And watch the fleet of snowy clouds 

Sail o'er the silent sky. 

(30) 



THE THOUGHT OF GOD. 

'Tis like that soft, invading light 

Which in all darkness shines, 
The thread that through life's sombre web 

In golden pattern twines. 

It is a thought which ever makes 
Life's sweetest smiles from tears, 

It is a daybreak to our hopes, 
A sunset to our fears. 

The wild flower on the grassy ground 

Scarce bends it's pliant form, 
When overhead the autumnal wood 

Is thundering like a storm. 

So is it with our humbled souls, 
Down in the thought of God, 

Scarce conscious in their sober peace 
Of the wild stoims abroad. 

(3t) 



THE THOUGHT OF GOD. 

Within a thought so great, our souls 

Little and modest grow, 
And, by its vastness awed, we iearn 

The art of walking: slow." 



(32) 



THE COMMON OFFERING. 
'*i T is nor the deed we do. 
Jf Though the deed be never so fair, 
But the love that the dear Lord looketh for, 
Hidden with holy care 
In the heart of the deed so fair. 

The love is the priceless thing, 

The treasure our treasure must hold, 

Or ever the Lord will take the gift, 
Or tell the worth of the gold 
(By the love that cannot be told). 

Behold us, the rich and the poor. 

Dear Lord, m Thy service drawn near, 
One consecrateth a precious coin, 
One droppeth only a tear : 
Look, Master; the love is here!" 



(33) 



FROM ''THE SHORE OF ETERNITY 



a 



LONE! to land alone upon that shore 1 
With no one sight that we have 
seen before, — 
Things of a different hue. 
And the sounds all new, 
And fragrances so sweet the soul may faint. 
Alone ! Oh, that first hour of being a saint ! 



Alone ! to land alone upon that shore ! 
To begin alone to live forevermore. 

To have no one to teach 

The manners or the speech 
Of that new life, or put us at our ease ; — 
Oh, that we might die in pairs or companies] 



FROM ^^THE SHORE OF ETERNITY:-' 

Alone? the God we know is on that shore, 
The God of whose attractions we know more 

Than of those who may appear 

Nearest and dearest here ; 
Oh, is He not the hfe-long Friend we know 
More privately than any friend below?— • 

Alone? the God we trust is on that shore. 
The Faithful One whom we have trusted more 

In trials and in woes 

Than we have trusted those 

On whom we leaned most in our earthly strife 

Oh we shall trust Him more in that new life! 

Alone? the God we love is on that shore, 
Love not enough, yet whom we love far more, 

And whom we loved all through 

And with a love more true 



FROM " THE SHORE OF ETERNITVr 

Than other loves — yet now shall love Him 

more : — 
True love of Him begins upon that shore ! 

So not alone we land upon that shore ; 

'Twill be as though we had been there before; 

We shall meet more we know 

Than we can meet below, 
And find our rest like some returning dove, 
And be at home at once with our Eternal love!" 



(36) 



I AM A LITTLE CHILD. 

I am but a little child.— i Kings iii. 7. 

"^SIURELY the Lord Himself is in this 
^^^"^ place ! 

He has not said in vain, ''Seek ye My face!" 
Thy face, Lord, will I seek : 'tis very sweet 
To be allowed to sit at Jesus' feet ! 

But stay, there is a still more blessed state, 
Communion still more .close and intimate: 
Lord, I'm " a little child ! " Then suffer me 
To come, as such, and nestle close to Thee. 

I am too weak to climb into Thine arms, 
So take me up Thyself! Let all alarms 
Be hushed to sleep upon Thy tender breast : 
Forbid me not ! I come to Thee for rest. 

(37) 



/ AM A LITTLE CHILD. 

I am a little child ! I never know 
What is the best or safest way to go : 
I always make mistakes ! By day or night, 
It is not safe to trust me out of sight. 

I am a little child ! So little strength 
Have I, that I begin to see at length, 
How true is that first lesson taught by Thee, 
"Ye can do nothing" — nothing! — "without 
Me." 

I am a little child ! 'Tis better so : 

For we are strong, when weak; and high, when 

low ; 
Richest, when poor ; and wise, when we discern 
How much, how very much, we have to learn. 

Where can we learn it, but at Jesus' feet ? 
Angels must wonder at our self-conceit. 



;38) 



/ AM A LITTLE CHILD. 

If we are not content, and thankful, too, 
To live and learn — as little children do. 

No time is wasted, and no labor lost, 
That teaches our proud hearts, at any cost, 
From self escaping, to escape to Thee, 
And learn the wisdom of simplicity." 



(39) 



NOT ALONE. 

THOUGHTS IX SICKNESS. 
Then came Jesus, the door being shut. — St. John x.\. 26. 



M- 



Y never absent Saviour ! 
'Tis pleasant here to lie, 
And drink in loving glances 
From Thine indulgent eye ! 
To hear Thee whisper, 

"Thou art Mine," 
And gladly answer, 
" I am Thine ! " 



My ever-watchful Guardian ! 

I feel that Thou art near ; 
Thine arm too closely round me. 

To leave me room for fear. 

!4o) 



NOT ALONE. 

I hear Thee whisper, 
"Thou art Mine," 

And gladly answer, 
"I am Thine!" 

My own untiring Teacher! 

It is so sweet to be 
By Thine own self instructed, 
When left alone with Thee 
To hear Thee whisper, 

"Thou art Mine," 
And gladly ansvv^er, 
"I am Thine!" 



THE CROSS. 

VERY bird that upward springs 
Bears the cross upon his wings ; 

We without it cannot rise 

Upward to our native skies. 



1L 



Every ship that meets the waves 
By the Cross their fury braves ; 
We, on Ufe's wide ocean tost, 
If we have it not, are lost. 



Hope, it gives us, when distressed, 
When we faint, it gives us rest ; 
Satan's craft and Satan's might 
By the Cross are put to flight." 



ST. THERESA'S MAXIMS. 

^J ET nothing trouble thee. 

^■i^ Let nothing terrify thee. 
All passes away. 
God never changes. 
Patience obtains everything. 
Who possesses God lacks nothing. 
God alone suffices." 



(43) 



THE FLIGHT OF THE BIRDS. 



Q 



WISE little birds, how do you know 
The way to go, 
Southward and northward, to and fro ? 



Far up in the ether piped they ; 

" We but obey 
One who calleth us far away. 

" He calleth and calleth year by year 

Now there, now here ; 
Ever He maketh the way appear." 

Dear little birds ! He calleth me 

Who calleth ye ; 
Would that I might as trusting be ! " 



(44) 



MUSIC. 

THAT music breathes all through my 
spirit, 
As the breezes blow through a tree ; 
And my soul gives light as it quivers, 
Like moons on a tremulous sea. 

New passions are wakened within me, 
New passions that have not a name ; 

Dim truths that I knew but as phantoms 
Stand up clear and bright in the flame. 

And my soul is possessed with yearnings 
Which make my life broaden and swell ; 

And I hear strange things that are soundless, 
And I see the invisible. 



(4:) 



MUSIC. 

I strove, but the sweet sounds have conquered: 

Within me the Past is awake ; 
The Present is grandly transfigured ; 

The Future is clear as day-break. 

There are sounds, like flakes of snow falling 
In their silent and eddying rings ; 

We tremble, — they touch us so lightly, 
Like the feathers from angels' wings. 

There are pauses of marvellous silence. 
That are full of significant sound, 

Like music echoing music 

Under water, or under ground. 

My mind is bewildered with echoes, — 
Not all from the sweet sounds without; 

But spirits are answering spirits 
In a beautiful muffled shout. 



(4'5) 



MUSIC. 

O cease then, wild horns! I am fainting; 

If ye wail so, my heart will break ; 
Some one speaks to me in your speaking 

In a language I cannot speak. 

Though the sounds ye make are all foreign. 
How native, how household, they are! 

The tones of old homes mixed with heaven. 
The dead and the angels, speak there. 

Dear voices, that long have been silenced, 
Come clear from their peaceable land, 

Come toned with unspeakable sweetness 
From the Presence . in which they stand 

Or is music the inarticulate 

Speech of the angels on earth ? 

Or the voice of the undiscovered 
Bringing great truths to the birth? 



(47) 



MUSIC. 

Thou, Lord, art the Father of music ; 

Sweet sounds are a whisper from Thee; 
Thou hast made Thy creation all anthems. 

Though it singeth them silently!' 




(48) 




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